Author's Note- Here is Chapter 31! I hope you enjoy. Also, I just want to post a reminder that I do not own Grey's Anatomy or its characters. If I did, there would be much better closure for both Justin Chambers and the character of Alex Karev. Stay strong, Grey's fandom.

Eternity seemed to pass as Meredith waited for the breakfast cart to arrive. She had not slept well. Nightmares plagued her brain, thanks in part to the overnight tech who had turned out Meredith's bedroom light, and once Meredith woke-up screaming in the darkness, she refused to shut her eyes again. It really did not matter, though. Even if Meredith had slept soundlessly, she had a feeling that breakfast would come too slowly. As excited as Meredith was to leave the psych ward, she was a jumbled mess of other emotions.

Nervous… why was Meredith nervous? She should be nothing but ecstatic to go home and be reunited with her husband and daughter.

Stop it, you dumbass, Meredith told herself. In her last session with Wyatt, the therapist had ridiculed her frequent use of the word should.

There is no one way you should recover from trauma. However you feel is how you feel and there is no reason to apologize.

That was easier said than done. From a young age, Meredith had been taught that there was a right way to do everything. If one was not successful in coping with trauma, what options were there? Suicide?

When the breakfast cart finally showed up, Meredith could have sworn that it never took so long to consume eggs and toast. The other patients were chatting, complaining about the mediocre quality of Seattle Grace's sausage, and then begging for an early medication pass. Meredith's nurse for the day, Tamera, even insisted upon dosing Meredith before she left, in case she later forgot to take her antidepressants.

At last, when the morning pills had been dispensed and Tamera was free, the two women walked off the unit together, Meredith clutching her composition book and the mandela coloring page for Zola.

Tamera escorted Meredith to a nearby bathroom where she was given the opportunity to change out of her paper scrubs and into an outfit that Derek must have brought for her; it consisted of jeans, a black bra, matching underwear, and to Meredith's pleasure, one of Derek's Bowdoin t-shirts. The thing was extremely oversized, practically fitting Meredith like a dress, but there was no other way she would have wanted to leave the hospital. A fresh pair of converse completed her look. Derek must have ventured out to a mall and bought them because Meredith's old shoes had been damaged beyond repair in the plane crash.

When she was dressed, Tamera helped Meredith into a wheelchair and pushed her onto an elevator which took them downstairs to Seattle Grace's primary entrance and exit. There, waiting beside Alex in the front seat of his Volvo, was Derek, and since the vehicle was not in motion, Zola sat on his lap.

"Zo-Zo!" Meredith cried, opening her arms wide. "Come here; I've missed you!"

"There you go, Dr. Grey; you're free," Tamera said, cutting the hospital bracelet off Meredith's wrist. "Good luck."

Meredith paid the nurse no attention. Her brain was not healed, but thanks to Dr. Wyatt and her prescription pad, Meredith was in better shape than she had been since the plane had originally gone down. In summary, that meant that Meredith could finally appreciate her daughter for what she was worth.

"Are you ready to hug Mommy?" Derek asked Zola and when the child nodded eagerly, he passed her over to Meredith.

"MOMMY!" Zola sang, throwing a pair of miniature arms around her mother. "Mommy sick?!"

"I was sick but I'm better now," Meredith said. "Mommy's coming home now."

Quickly, she got Zola situated in her carseat and prepared to climb into the back next to her daughter but was stopped by Derek. "Hold on, don't I get a hug?"

"Oh, I… sorry," Meredith said and folded herself into her husband's arms. "I missed you. Are you okay?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that question?"

"I… well, I just wondered because… well, we've all been emotional…"

"I'm fine. Are you good? Are you ready to go?"

"More than ready," Meredith smiled.

Derek offered to let her sit in the front next to Alex yet just like when Derek himself had been discharged from the ICU, Meredith opted to sit in back with Zola. She grinned at Alex, who was behind the wheel of his Volvo, anxiously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Hey… I hear you decided to put up with me a little longer?"

"Yeah, peds is already short one doctor with Robbins gone and Hunt offered me the fellowship so I went with it," Alex explained. "Plus, I mean… Hopkins just wasn't meant to be. Every time I was ready to leave, something ended up happening… Lexie had a stroke, Arizona went septic, you… had your thing…"

"Right," Meredith said. She knew that her friend meant well, but part of Alex's comment had rubbed her the wrong way. "So… all that… Lexie's stroke and Arizona going septic… that was all meant to be?"

Alex shrugged and snorted, simultaneously. "I… don't know. The universe is messed up, Mer. We know that."

That was true. Meredith dropped the subject. When they arrived at 613 Harper Lane, Meredith helped Zola out of the car and followed everyone inside, only to find the living room unrecognizable.

"What the hell happened here?" Meredith asked, staring at the blank walls, the space that was empty other than several dozen cardboard boxes, stacked on top of one another.

"I told you… Karev and I have been working hard, packing," Derek said. "I didn't touch your stuff, don't worry but any day now, we're gonna be able to make the big move."

"To the dream house?"

"To the dream house."

"And you're buying this place?" Meredith pressed, although she directed this question towards Alex.

"Yeah, I mean… it's a beautiful house and I know I'll get a better deal from you two than I would on the regular market. I want to settle down, Mer. I don't mean I'm aiming to get married or anything but… I'm making 300 grand this year. I want to have my own place, my own things."

Derek had informed Meredith of all this in the hospital, of course, but Meredith had not been in her right mind. Recovering from her drunken episode, Meredith had expressed nothing but anger at Derek for allowing Alex to purchase the house without first consulting her.

The plan was ideal, though. Alex was staying in Seattle and if he was living in Ellis Grey's old house, that would ensure that Meredith still got to see her childhood residence.

"That's good. You deserve it," Meredith said and Alex smiled.

"Okay, who's up for brunch?" Derek called from the kitchen.

The day passed, somewhat leisurely. According to Mark, who stopped by mid-afternoon, Owen was working on arranging a new meeting with Bayview Aeronautics but they were not rushing this conference, considering what had happened at the last one. Several of the plane crash survivors were unstable, physically and mentally; they needed additional time to recover before starting the legal journey.

Meredith managed to pack up some of her clothes, too, and a majority of her textbooks from medical school. They chose to leave Zola's toys out until the last possible moment to prevent tantrums.

Monday night, after Alex had fallen asleep on the living room couch, Meredith and Derek made their way to the master bedroom and climbed into bed together.

"It's good to have you home," Derek sighed. His eyes seemed to be shining brighter, bluer than normal and Derek's raven-colored hair had never looked so gorgeous.

Perhaps it was because Meredith had not been alone with her husband in several days, or because the Sertraline was making its presence known in her bloodstream. It was impossible to decipher, but it was like Meredith had never adequately appreciated the man that was Derek Shepherd.

"It's good to be home," Meredith cooed. Breathing deeply, she inched herself a bit closer to her husband. "I can't believe it's been almost two months."

"Since the plane crash?"

"Since we had sex."

Derek looked at his wife, a bemused expression on his face. "Well, to be fair, we did give it our best effort last week."

"Yeah, but we almost injured each other in the process," Meredith said. "I feel better now, don't you?"

"I… I do…"

"Really?"

His answer had been affirmative, yet there was something uncertain about Derek's body language. He was hesitant about engaging in intimacy with Meredith and there was no quicker way to kill the mood. The only instances in the past where either of them had declined sex was after the shooting, when they were physically incapable of making love, Derek due to his gunshot wound and Meredith, from her miscarriage.

"Derek," Meredith whispered. "Don't you… don't you want to…?"

"Trust me, I do," Derek said. "I… I'm not sure if tonight is the night, though."

"Is something hurting? Are you still hurt?"

"Well, my hand is tender but that's not the reason I think we should wait," Derek confessed and as hard as she tried otherwise, Meredith deflated. "It's just… Mer, you were in the hospital this morning."

"So?"

"So I think we've both learned in the past that throwing ourselves onto one another… that's not the right way to heal from a trauma."

"Yeah, but I didn't think we were in trauma therapy at the moment," Meredith said. "I thought we were just reunited for the first time in almost a week and… and I want to have sex with my husband for the first time in two months but apparently he doesn't want to have sex with me."

"I didn't say…"

Another thought popped into Meredith's overworked brain. "You're still mad, aren't you? Are you mad about me trying to manage everything on my own and having a mental breakdown? Or about me driving drunk or us not moving to Boston? Because I didn't send that email and…"

"Meredith," Derek interjected; he placed his healthy hand on the side of his wife's face. It was like she had taken clonazepam; Meredith's heart rate calmed on cue. She managed to breathe long enough for Derek to speak.

"I'm not mad at you… and I'm not mad at myself either. I'm definitely not mad about Boston. Maybe I was frustrated at first because I… I don't know; I felt like you were giving up your dreams for me but now I… I understand. We have the rest of our lives to move back to the east coast. Right now, you need it here, in Seattle."

A majority of the nerves in Meredith's body relaxed. She rested her head back onto Derek's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I knew I was going to flip out and… and get paranoid all over again once I was out of the hospital."

"Do you feel like you need to go back? Do you feel like… I don't know, like… hurting yourself?" Derek prompted, clearly uncomfortable.

"No, and I never did," Meredith sighed. "I just… I feel like Cristina is running away. She's leaving the small group of people who actually understand what we went through and if we went to Boston, I would be doing the same thing."

"I know," Derek said. "Have you talked with Cristina at all? Told her about your… incident?"

Meredith shook her head. "I know it's dumb. I know we're acting like children but… I'm too ashamed. When Cristina left, she was treating me like I was going to snap. Like because I was staying in Seattle, something else horrible was going to happen… and if I call her and tell her, it's going to prove that she was right."

"I'm pretty sure your breakdown was going to happen whether or not you stayed in Seattle," Derek said. "I mean, one way or another, you were going to be involved in Lexie's care, right? And you were avoiding therapy. Cristina cares about you. She'd want to know. You never know, she might be going through the exact same thing."

It was possible. Owen had not mentioned anything to Meredith and unless something had changed, Owen was still his wife's emergency contact so he likely would have been notified if she was hospitalized in Minnesota. Regardless, a certain piece of Meredith knew that she was jealous of Cristina for being able to take off across the country and go back to work. It was supposed to be her, Cristina, that was plagued with PTSD for months on end, not Meredith.

But Derek was right. He had spewed one of his perfect, McDreamy speeches and Meredith was stupid for fighting him.

"Okay, I'll call Cristina. I'll call her soon but you've got to give me time. I need to figure some stuff out, adjust back to life and… and be a good mother because I have not been paying Zola enough attention."

"You've been doing your best," Derek smiled.

"Well, I need to do better. She deserves better. Her parents were supposed to be gone in Boise for one day… less than a day. And then they were gone for over a week and when they came back, they were hurt and… and traumatized."

Derek tilted his head to one side; it was his beautiful, signature movement… the movement that practically stopped Meredith's heart every single time she witnessed it. "Meredith… is this about your mother?"

"My mother?"

"Yes, what you told me about your mother the other day… the way she hurt herself in front of you."

"No," Meredith said, honestly. "No, I've made my peace with that. I do want to be a better mother than my mother was, though and… and right now, I really don't know if I am."

"Don't say that," Derek urged. "You want Zola. That alone makes you a better mother than Ellis Grey but for the record, you are nothing like your mother. Your talent for general surgery is the only thing that you inherited from her."

A grin crept its way back onto Meredith's face. "Well, that and the early-onset Alzheimer's…"

"We don't know that you inherited that. We know you inherited the gene but that doesn't mean anything and we've already had this discussion so many times. Let's drop it… for now. Let's focus on the short term… moving into the dream house."

"Is that why you wanted to wait?" Meredith asked, raising her eyebrows, playfully.

The prominent pink color that Derek's face had turned gave the truth away. "I just… personally, I can't imagine a better way. Our first time in more than two months… it should be the first night in the dream house."

"When are we moving?"

"Soon… as soon as you finish packing and I can get some people over here to help us. Mark's walking better so he might be of some use. Callie said she would help if she can get away from Arizona long enough."

At the mention of Arizona, Meredith's smile faltered slightly. "Have you talked with Mark? Is she doing any better?"

Derek shook his head, his own expression growing dark. "No… still depressed and pissed at the world. I can't say I blame her; I would be a wreck if my leg had been cut off but Mark's really mad at the way she's treating Callie. You know it… it could be so much worse."

Neither had said her name aloud but they had worked the conversation back around to Lexie. Meredith sighed and curled down into the cocoon of blankets. "I'm supposed to write a letter to her… Wyatt said it might help me find closure. I'm supposed to write a letter and read it to her in the ICU."

"That sounds like a good idea. I… I mean, under the circumstances… it might help," Derek acknowledged.

"Maybe but it's weird. It's like… I would rather her die right here and now than have everything be drawn out… but at the same time, I'm not ready to say goodbye," Meredith said.

With his head still tilted and his lips pressed into a sad, sympathetic smile, Derek nodded. "I know… but there's good news. You don't have to be ready yet. You can be ready whenever you want. In the meantime, we can hope for a miracle."

"Fairytales and magic?" Meredith smirked. "Maybe Lexie will wake up if I go and read her a super dramatic letter… if I cry and Mark professes his love for her."

"You never know. There are medical miracles. You're proof of that," Derek said. Gently, he wrapped his good arm around his wife and reached to turn off the bedside lamp.

I need you to talk to me. Tell me if my ego's getting in the way or… if there's something I can do that'll make it easier for you. Can you do that for me, Mer?

"Derek, wait!" Meredith gasped, just as the bedroom turned dark.

"What's wrong?"

"I… I thought of something that you can do… something that'll make it easier for me. Um… could we please… would you mind leaving the lights on tonight?"

MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB

Mark's physical health was drastically improving and so, with that in mind, a tentative moving date was scheduled. If all went according to plan, although they would be transporting some items to the dream house ahead of time, Meredith, Derek, and Zola would be officially living in their new residence on June 22nd.

The time worked well because by June 22nd, two months would have fully passed since the plane crash. Everyone involved, other than Arizona and Lexie, would likely be healthy enough to carry boxes and Meredith and Derek would still have more than a week until the fresh batch of surgical interns arrived at Seattle Grace.

No longer a resident, Meredith was not technically responsible for any of the puppies. She did not want to get too far behind in her fellowship program though, or worse, be looked at as a weakling by the new doctors.

In other words, Meredith wanted to be completely settled into her new house as soon as possible. That would give her time to focus on therapy, on potentially saying goodbye to Lexie, on being a surgeon again.

"Wyatt says I can do consults and ER work whenever I feel ready," Meredith said to Derek one day as they pushed Zola in her stroller to a nearby park.

The few days that had passed since Meredith's hospital discharge had been mostly good. She was not clueless enough to consider herself healed, but Meredith had been packing up her belongings and attended another therapy session with Dr. Wyatt where they talked about the Cristina situation. According to society, Meredith was functioning like a normal human being.

Well, for the most part, anyway. Meredith had yet to sleep in a room that did not have its brightest light shining and she had terrified Derek on numerous occasions when she wokeup screaming with nightmares. But there had been improvement.

"Don't push yourself," Derek frowned. "You heard what Owen said… there's no deadline. Just because the new interns are starting work, that doesn't mean you have to."

"I know and I'm not cleared for surgery yet anyway but I could start working in the pit or something," Meredith said. "What about you? Didn't your physical therapist say you could start consulting?"

Derek nodded. "Yeah, I… he did but I'm not sure if I'm ready, to be honest."

"Why?"

"No reason. Just think I might need more time."

Meredith shrugged. "Mark said he was going to start working again. I know he's better but I'm not sure if that's a great idea."

"Why? Because of Lexie?"

"I mean, would you feel comfortable working if I was lying in the ICU with minimal brain activity?"

Even the suggestion sent shadows of pain over Derek's wary face. "I… I wouldn't, no but Mark and I are built differently. And something tells me that if I were lying in the ICU with minimal brain activity, you would work obsessively to drown out your pain."

"Ah, we know each other well but don't worry, I wouldn't ever let you get to this point where you were lying on a ventilator a month after having a stroke. You would have been unplugged right after your huge family had a chance to say goodbye," Meredith smiled wryly.

"Well, er… thank you for that," Derek said. At this point they had arrived at the park, which was bustling with other families, dogs, and sports teams. Summer was here and for a majority of people, they had not a care in the world.

"Enough talk of work and death?"

"Please," Derek requested. They helped Zola out of her stroller together and brought her over to a playground where she happily began climbing on a miniature jungle gym.

Meredith giggled as her fearless daughter reached the top and launched herself down a steep slide. "So this is what it's like when you don't live in the hospital…"

"This is what it's like when you're part of a loving family," Derek said and frowned, sarcastically. "What, don't tell me that your mother never brought you to the playground…"

"I think the only time we ever went to a park was when she was planning to meet Richard there. That was when he broke up with her. I was riding the carousel, watched the whole thing go down."

"And look at you now. You are breaking the cycle."

"I am?" Meredith said. She had not felt like the best parent lately, between her psych ward admission and night terrors.

"You are," Derek assured her. "It's not your fault that you were in a plane crash, Meredith."

"And it's not your fault that you were shot… or that twenty other people were shot."

"Yes, except technically it was," Derek said. "I gave the order to unplug Allison Clark; I…"

"Need more therapy," Meredith interrupted. "You never got proper therapy after the shooting and you're getting that now, with Rehmani. Trust me, it was not your fault but we're not going to talk about this any longer. We're going to sit here on this bench and… and…"

"And watch our daughter enjoy the childhood that her mother deserved to have," Derek finished and Meredith nodded.

"Yeah… yeah, we're going to do that."

They sat on that bench for approximately another hour. Derek got up briefly and allowed Zola to give him a tour of the playground; he even started a conversation with another father that was present but Meredith remained on the bench which felt safer. She got out her phone and contemplated calling Cristina several times but ultimately decided this was not the time nor the place. All Zola needed was to watch her mother have an emotional conversation in the park, the same park where Richard Webber had once broken the heart of Ellis Grey.

When Zola began to get tired, the trio headed back to the house on Harper Lane, chatting quietly about work and daycare as they strolled. Thanks to her parents' calm voices and the gentle rocking of the stroller, Zola passed out for her afternoon nap in the midst of their journey and upon arriving home, Derek carried her upstairs to the nursery.

"How about tonight I make you a special dinner?" Derek suggested as he trudged back down to the kitchen.

"You don't have to do that; I know you're probably tired from the walk," Meredith said. "How about we just order pizza or something? Save the special dinner for the dream house."

Derek shook his head. "We'll have a special dinner then, too, but we have a lot of food we need to eat here before moving. Go on, sit down… call Cristina if you want. I have something in mind and it's not peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

"Are you mocking my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?" Meredith accused, a smirk pressed slyly on her face.

"Of course not, dear," Derek smiled. "I'm just saying… I don't think I am quite as talented as you when it comes to making those delicious sandwiches. You're going to have to have faith in my actual culinary skills."

Derek was, in general, a much better cook than Meredith so she rolled her eyes and left him to do his thing. With Zola asleep and her husband preoccupied, it was the ideal time for Meredith to call her friend in Minnesota but she was not sure if she wanted to face the inevitable just yet. Today had been a good day… the first genuinely good day that Meredith had had in what seemed like forever. She had spent time with Derek and Zola at the park and for once, Meredith felt like a good mother.

She did not want to ruin that by thinking or talking about her mental breakdown so instead, Meredith flipped on the television, one of the few household items that remained in its usual place. It was not plausible to pack up absolutely everything, not when Meredith and Derek were still recovering physically and mentally from their battle wounds.

Meredith had barely started watching an old episode of Jeopardy when there was a tentative thumping sound from the door. It was so soft that Meredith was not entirely sure whether the knock was meant for her house and if it was, it was certainly too quiet for Derek to have heard from the kitchen.

Meredith hesitated. Her anxiety was persuading her to call her husband, to ask him to answer the door; Meredith had been in no mood to speak with strangers. But Derek was busy. He was cooking. Meredith could do this one thing by herself.

Taking a deep breath, Meredith walked away from Jeopardy and to the front door which she swung open, expecting to see some kid selling gift baskets from a catalogue.

Instead, Meredith found herself face to face with the youngest of the Grey sisters, the woman that had accused her of abandoning Lexie.

Molly was rather pale and shaky; she shifted around, awkwardly. "Meredith…"

"I… what are you doing here? How do you know where I live?" Meredith asked before she could help it.

"Dad told me. This used to be his house, you know so… so he knew," Molly explained. "I'm sorry for coming without calling but you weren't answering the phone and it was an emergency."

An intense feeling of dread filled Meredith head to toe. "Oh, God… is it… is it Lexie?"

"No, but it's a long story so… so can I come in?" Molly requested.

It did not appear that Meredith was going to have much of a choice. She nodded, and opened the door a bit wider, inviting her biological sister into the living room which was unfortunately, quite empty.

"Sorry, um… we're getting ready to move so everything is kinda a mess."

"It's okay. You're not going to Boston, are you?"

"No, Derek and I both decided that… wasn't a good idea. We're staying here but we're moving into another house that Derek's been working on the past few years."

Molly raised her eyebrows. "Like he built it himself?"

"He built the deck himself, with some help but mostly he just designed it," Meredith said and then she shook her head. "But wait a second, we're getting way off track. If it's not Lexie, what made this such an emergency that you had to come over?"

Before Molly could answer, there were approaching footsteps. Derek must have heard multiple voices; he joined the party. "Meredith? What's going on?"

Previously, Derek had encouraged his wife to get to know her sister, but ever since Meredith's mental health had spiraled and Derek had learned the truth about what happened in the ICU, he had been less inclined towards his sister-in-law.

"Oh, um… sorry, you remember Molly, right?" Meredith said, gesturing towards the young woman. "She said there was an emergency so… spit it out."

Molly looked back and forth between Meredith and Derek. Perhaps she wanted Derek to go away, to give them space but there was no way in hell that was going to happen so she sighed. "Okay, listen, Meredith… it's Dad. He needs your help."

"He needs my help?" Meredith repeated, in disbelief.

"He needs our help," Molly confessed. "I need your help. Do you remember when you asked if Dad was… if he was drunk? It turns that you were right. He relapsed and he's been drinking again and he's been drunk since the day we had the conversation about Lexie's life support."

Meredith did not say anything. She just stared at Molly, who had not even uttered an apology for the way she had spoken that day.

Molly was waiting for an answer, though; her face was becoming flustered. "Meredith… he's really, really sick. He's already on his second liver and he's drinking like he was after my mom died. I'm scared he's going to die, too, and… and if he dies… God, I… I'll have no one. You don't have to like me. You don't have to bond with me or anything but Dad's going to die, Meredith and we have to do something before it's too late."

"No, she does not," Derek suddenly said. He stepped forward, in front of Meredith, as if he was protecting her. "Listen, Molly… I understand your concern. I do… but Meredith does not owe your father anything."

"Well, I… no, I don't think it's about owing him but… he's your dad, Meredith. You don't want him to die, right? I mean, you donated your liver to him before…"

"I did that for Lexie," Meredith interjected. "I told you that before… I really couldn't care less about him, Molly, but I love Lexie and she would have been crushed if she lost her dad less than two years after losing her mom. She would have been dark and twisty and broken like I am. I did that for Lexie because I love her."

A soft hand touched Meredith on the shoulder. "Mer, you aren't broken. Stop it."

"I'm just saying…"

"Why?" Molly interrupted this time. "Why don't you care? I know you two aren't as close as we are; you didn't grow up with him but he's your family, Meredith. You're a doctor. How can you not care if he lives or dies?"

Derek opened his mouth again, like he was going to answer for his wife, but Derek never got that chance because Meredith was done with all of it. She was finished letting other people in this family speak for her. She pulled herself out of Derek's arms.

"I don't love people just because they're biological family. I have biological family that I love, like Lexie, and I have biological family that never gave a crap about me. I know that our father was an amazing dad to you, Molly, but he wasn't to me. He left when I was five years old and I never saw him again, not until I was thirty years old and that was only because I sought him out myself.

"When your mother died, he blamed me. And that was fine, to a degree… I've lost family and friends. I know, in that situation, you want to blame somebody. But Susan was my stepmother. My God, I never could have been her doctor. I was an intern; all I was doing was shadowing my resident and spending time with Susan because in the short time I knew your mother, I really grew to love her and I can't say that about many people. When she died, I was heartbroken. But I had to be the one to tell our dad that she was gone. He wasn't drunk then, but he slapped me and cursed at me and then he left. He got drunk. He refused to let us donate Susan's organs and he lied to you and Lexie and told you that it was my fault she was dead. He wouldn't even let me come to the funeral to say goodbye.

"Once he got sober, he wanted my forgiveness. I was forced by my Chief of Surgery, to give him that even though I wasn't ready and let me tell you, no one should have to forgive on anyone's terms except for their own. But I gave him that. I wished him well, and when he came into the ER with liver failure, I donated my liver to save him. After all he had done to me, I did that… I put myself through major, life-threatening abdominal surgery… not for him, but for Lexie. I couldn't let her become an orphan.

"I'm sorry that you feel I don't care about you or about Dad or about Lexie, Molly. And the truth is, I don't really care, not when it comes to you or Dad. I didn't care about Lexie at first either because I'm not like you. I didn't grow up with smiley face posters on my wall. I don't think biological blood automatically warrants love. Maybe if you gave me a chance, though… if you didn't accuse me of not caring about Lexie, if you let me take my time as I process my trauma… maybe we could end up loving each other. Because I do love Lexie. I will always love Lexie. And like it or not, I saved her life out there in the forest. She might still die. But if I hadn't done what I had, she would have 100 percent died out there in the woods."

By this point, tears were streaming down Meredith's face. Her chest was heaving with sobs and anxiety, and all of the emotion that Meredith had been working to keep inside was pouring out. Molly was crying, too; her eyes were welling up but Meredith was finished paying attention to Molly.

Two strong, gentle arms embraced Meredith from behind. Derek was holding her, calming her erratic respirations and steadying her slender frame. Meredith tried to speak, to say something to her husband, yet she had used up all the words in her vocabulary.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence broken only by Meredith's sobs, Molly cleared her throat. "Okay, I… I don't know what to say, Meredith. I'm… I'm sorry."

"I d-don't want to kill her… I want her to live, more than anything," Meredith whispered. "But I've done this before. Like you said, I'm a doctor; I do this every day. People in Lexie's situation… they don't wake-up. If I thought there was any chance, I would vote to keep her on the ventilator but the fact is… every day that passes… there's less chance that Lexie will ever wake-up. I want to do the… the humane thing… for Lexie and for us, as a family. I don't think she would want this… I know that none of us deserve this, to… to see her die in slow motion."

Molly nodded, slowly. "I… I know. I didn't want to believe it before but I know you're right. I just… I love her so much and I let Dad influence me and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, Meredith."

"You should go, Molly," Derek said. "Thank you for coming and keeping us updated but now you should go."

"But what can I do for my dad? I understand why Meredith can't help anymore but I still want to and… and I don't know what to do. I can't let him die. Please… please tell me what to do," Molly begged.

Meredith sat down on the couch; she was exhausted, physically and emotionally but thankfully, Derek was ready. He searched through Meredith's purse, briefly, and stood up with a black pen and a neon blue post-it note. Ever since their wedding, Meredith refused to buy any other color.

Derek scratched down a few words on the post-it and then handed it to Molly. "Go back up to the hospital… talk to Dr. Richard Webber; he's the Chief of General Surgery and then go with him to Dr. David Rehmani in Psychiatry. Tell them I sent you. They both have connections; they'll set up some kind of intervention for your dad. They'll offer him treatment but remember, Molly… it's the alcoholic's choice whether or not they are ready to get help. If Thatcher wants to continue destroying his body, he'll find a way. All you can do is present him the option."

"That's enough. That's more than enough," Molly said and it looked like she was about to reach forward and hug Derek when she stopped short and retreated. "Thank you, Dr. Shepherd. Thank you, Meredith and… and again, I'm sorry for everything."

I hope you enjoyed! This was actually a very difficult chapter to write so I would really appreciate any reviews. Also I hope you enjoyed Meredith's little comment about how she would always contact Derek's huge family if he was in a coma in the ICU ;)

Chapter 32 will be out soon! Make sure you favorite/follow to stay updated. Thank you so much for reading and supporting me; it means a lot. Xoxo, merderpedia :)